


i left my heart in amsterdam;

by cottontxiled



Series: MLAndersen0 Timeline [1]
Category: Everyman HYBRID, MLAndersen0
Genre: Essentially a MLA0! Steph AU, F/M, Mental Institutions, Missing Persons, Multi, Please feel free to correct me if I get anything wrong!, Slenderman being an evil fucker, Slow Burn, The boys are still there though >:), based on achievement_huntress's fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26122453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cottontxiled/pseuds/cottontxiled
Summary: For an entity who's known for his iron grip on his Mining Town Four, HABIT seems to have lost one.Distantly, Patrick is thumbing his nose and having a good laugh.
Relationships: Michael Andersen/Stephanie (Everyman HYBRID), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Shaun Andersen/Stormy
Series: MLAndersen0 Timeline [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922965
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. ACT ONE: SCENE ONE

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Retrograde](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268967) by [achievement_huntresss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/achievement_huntresss/pseuds/achievement_huntresss). 



As a child, Michael never retained anything about the hospital. Not individual events, at least, those swirled together into this cocktail of white walls and bright light off of linoleum tile. He remembered his mother's worried-yet-happy face each visit, gently calling him 'Mikey', going on about everything she could think of.

He remembers his father never said anything. He entered the room quiet, and left quiet. His shoulders sagged with weight that young Michael didn't yet understand, and was scared of. He didn't want to look that tired.

He remembers his brother, Shaun. At first, kind and daunted, looking around at the building with the concerned furrow between his eyebrows that Michael had learned to spot. Then, over time, unforgiving and cold. Snapping at Michael for the littlest things, until family meetings and the occasional dinner nights were so upsettingly tense that Michael's mom stopped forcing Shaun to accompany them.

Then there was his best friend.

She was brought in the same way he was, a bored-looking nurse escorting her out of the therapy rooms, and into the main area. She was wearing some newer clothes, white and sky-blue, and looked out over the mass of other children, worrying her bottom lip for a moment.

Unthinkingly, he smiles. His mother always stressed cordiality to strangers, making sure Michael not only minded his P's and Q's, but clung to them. 

The girl relaxes, and she leaves the nurse to walk over to his table. Table. Michael looks down at the pencil and paper he had in hand. Huh. He didn't remember getting that from the back.

"I'm Stormy." She introduces herself, hand outstretched. The nurse reaches forward, giving Michael a stern look as he places the girl's hand down for her, "What? I'm tryin' to say H-"

"It's okay. Hi." He cuts her off, "You're new?" 

Stormy pulls out the stiff, blue chair, and the nurse wanders off, but not too far. They were never too far. "Yeah, actually, like super new! Today new!" 

Michael laughs. "Oh, well, welcome to Hell," He jokes, "They don't even have Super Mario here, dude."

She laughs along and it's nice. It's nice to just feel like a kid again, like this is just an indoor recess on a rainy day. Like he'll be going home to his mom's cooking and his stupid brother and his stupid face. Michael lets himself be there for a moment.

It's not often he gets to make the first impression, and Patrick was, well....

Extreme.

But she's sitting across from him, chattering without a care, and it's good. It's really good.

He has a small smile on his face for the rest of the day, which his doctors seem to be dumbfounded by. 

-

Of course, they're a lot older by the time they meet Stephanie. 11th grade, in the fall months, a girl joins their group session.

She looks worn. Her eyes stare straight ahead during group, when they aren't shifting to the officer behind her. Her fingers dig into her wrists and Michael frowns, recognizing the posture from his own first days.

"..Okay, I just wanted to take some time and ask you all if you wanted to share something, it could be a struggle, or an overcoming!" Doctor Chakrabati is forcefully enthusiastic, clicking her pen as she looks around, eyes lingering on Michael for a moment. He takes a moment to smile back. His mother's gentle scolding was never far from his mind. She passes over him.

"Stephanie? Why don't you start us off?" 

The girl looks ruefully at the wall above the doctor, the picking at loose threads intensifying as she responds, in a rough voice. "I couldn't sleep last night. It was a struggle."

Silence, and a prompting look from Chakrabati makes her startle, as she looks embarrassed, realizing she had to elaborate. "Um.. I had a couple nightmares. Nothin' huge."

"About what, may I ask?" 

Stephanie shifts in her chair. "I was in a forest, near a creek. I heard these.. these kids playing, three boys. I can't see them, but I can hear them. I look around, because I feel.. watched," She pauses, looking around uncomfortably, "And I watch as this faceless thing leaves the woods near me. The kids start screaming, and they, uh... They know my name." She cuts herself off before she says anything else with a helpless shrug, but Michael's already gone rigid in his chair.

What the fuck.

What the **_FUCK_**. 

How did she know? How could she know? Pressure built in his ears as he watched the rest of the world go mute, Stephanie being reassured by a quietly concerned Stormy, breaking the No-Touch rule, Dr. Chakrabati apologizing and moving on, and the officer giving him a scrutinizing look.

It's too much. He breathes out quickly, fiddling with his earlobe, trying to calm down as something pink with a cough syrup consistency, blankets his brain, and in turn his limbs, letting him go still.

There's an amused laugh that rings in his ears, deep and melodic, gentle pressure on his forehead. ' _Jesus Christ, kid, calm down. What's the fuss?_ '

His eyes trail to Stephanie and Patrick is quiet for a minute. Stormy's retracted her arm, but seems to be quietly talking to her, patting her knee. The girl seems to feel eyes on her, and her eyes darts up, meeting Michael's eyes.

' _Oh. Oh, now that... that is interesting_.' Patrick seems greatly intrigued. ' _How do you feel about new friends?_ '

Michael wasn't even sure how to respond.


	2. ACT ONE: SCENE TWO

Later that night, at lights out, Patrick's interest was like two permanent exclamation points that Michael couldn't rub away. And _oh_ , how he tried to wipe off all that interest.

His people skills may have been rusty, but he was pretty sure that the intense 'interviewing' Patrick was attempting to make him do were.. not conducive to friendship. Or even acquaintances. Frankly, it was creepy.

Patrick didn't think so. ' **Look, I swear, you need to get this chickadee on your side here, then you can all be great pals. That's an upside for you, no?'**

"But what do you get?" He whispers out loud into the darkness, "Why do you want to talk to her so bad, you don't even like Stormy, what's with this Stephanie chick?"

A sonorous chuckle reverbs through his skull, and he winces. 

**'Don't worry. I'm not playing favorites, I'm a professional, Michael. Stephanie is like you. You are like her. Won't it be good for someone to understand?'**

Drowsily, he nods. The darkness makes it easier to accept falling into a dreamless sleep, inviting him with open arms. 

-

Stephanie couldn't sleep. 

She curled up on the bed, trying to get comfortable the way she would've at home, but the sheets were strange and the room was cold. As stupid as it was, there was.. barely any light in the room. The way the world was closed around her felt crushing. 

Home. Home was another thing entirely.

She didn't have one anymore.

Black garbage bags and blood on her clothes. Arms shaky, unused to holding so much, desperately spraying gasoline on her father's study. Her brother's room. Her own clothes. Watching from the pines as it goes up, like a dried out tree.

The Man had caught her then. Her tears weren't shed until somewhere between Pennsylvania and Princeton.

And now, they made another appearance.

Her tears seep into the bedding, trying to keep quiet as she represses sobs. Stephanie is alone in the world.

No family, no friends. Survived by nothing and no-one.

The blaze of the house she grew up in burnt away the last connections she had.

She doesn't end up sleeping that night.

-

In the morning, at breakfast, Michael retrieves his food to find Stephanie already at their table, picking at her chicken sausage and egg.   
  


Stormy smiles at them both uneasily, pausing her nonsense ramblings when Michael slid into the chair next to her. It hurt to see her flinch back.

It's awkward. The silence is mounting. He wills himself to say something, looking at his fruit cup as if it will yield a conversion topic that didn't involve faceless men in suits.

"So, uh, what came first?" He finally says, already disappointed in himself, gesturing with his spoon to the chicken sausage and egg.

Stephanie pauses. She snorts, and looks back up at him, "That fucking stunk, dude. Real stinker of a joke." 

He grins nervously. "I personally figure the egg, it'd be hard to lay an egg as a sausage."

Stephanie's smile turns a little less grinning-to-bear-it and more genuine. Stormy laughs as well, unable to help it. 

"Steph, this is Michael, he's like. Known me for super duper long!" Stormy explains, "I promise he's not always like this, he's just nervous."

"I'm not nervous," Michael protests weakly, unable to get a word in with the way Stormy was introducing him and somehow tying this back to the movie from last Friday.

But soon enough, it became more banter than anything else. Steph was funny. She liked musicals but only for the painted sets. She hated horror movies. And she thought his jokes were stupid.   
  


Stormy said she was proud of him, once Steph got ushered away for a session. A sugary sympathetic smile and a gentle, rule-breaking side hug were administered and he felt.. okay again. Like he had friends again. 

Michael decided he could live with that. 

-

Then comes one-on-one. 

Dr. Torres was an older doctor, middle aged with greying streaks and a tie picked out by his four year-old. His face was kind, but Michael wasn't sure if he was 100% trusting of that.

He takes a fuzzy, red and white tangle from the box next to Torres' computer, as he'd done since he was a kid.   
  


If the doctor found this strange, he didn't remark on it, and simply got up, pushing the door shut.

"Hello, Michael," He greets with a sense of familiarity, "How've we been doing this week?"

Michael hesitates. The ticking of the acoustic clock echoes through him. "I.. I guess alright."

Dr. Torres clatters something out on his keyboard, "You guess or you know, bud?"

"Nothing's different from before. I take the medicine, and I fall asleep normally, no dreams." Michael explains, twisting the string through his fingers, the motion soothing. 

"No sudden feelings of weakness, shaking, anything?"   
  


"Nope." Michael pops the 'p', twisting the tangle into figure-eights. 

"How's your mood?" 

That gives him pause, and Dr. Torres picks up on it, hands stilling as he looks to Michael pityingly. "Any changes?"

"Just.. Lonely, I guess." Michael admits after a minute. "I feel like nobody can understand what this is like. Once I'm out, it's like, I'll never find anybody who'll get It."

"That's not uncommon for any boy your age to think," The doctor tries, falling flat at Michael's raised eyebrows, "But.. given your history, I understand how you may feel that way." 

And on he goes. Michael wishes he could focus past the first 10 minutes of his appointments, but when you've been told the same thing, day after day, for nearly 13 years, it gets... rather redundant. He ignores the pang of guilt.   
  


"..Michael, I wanted to ask you something." Dr. Torres asks, after a few minutes of radio static. 

"Okay." He swallows nervously, tugging the tangle apart.

"How's.." He checks his notes, "How's **_Patrick_** doing?" 

Michael falters. 

"Just. no." He says firmly, "I don't want to talk about Patrick, Dr. Torres, please." 

"Michael, your parents asked me for an update. I know you-" His tone is placating, as if he expects Michael to react violently. That both tears his hear in half and hardens it, he yanks at the tangle again in frustration.

"Can we drop it?" He snaps, "Because if my parents wanted a fuckin' update, they can come see me themselves. I'd be glad to tell them all about it."

The doctor sighs. The ticking of the clock resumes, which.. startles Michael. He hadn't even heard it stop. But sure enough, a pause, followed by loud, rapid ticking as it caught up with real time.

Michael fixed his gaze on his pants in amazement. 

How interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first steph pov! poor baby. 
> 
> a little upd8 on the way these chapters are organized- there is an act one and act two! act two will be steph joining michael from the point in the actual video series, 'Shaun.' act one is where we are now. 
> 
> thank you all for reading!


	3. ACT ONE: SCENE 3

Months pass and things change. From the window, he can see that leaves are starting to change color, and shrivel, floating to the ground. Stormy is discharged at around this time. It's weepy when she does have to go, she clings to Michael for a good few minutes, before hugging Steph goodbye too. Though it was hard to let his friend go, watching through the window as she leaves, surrounded by her family, reassures him slightly. A leaf hangs in mid-air while he wipes his own tears away.

He lights up when he notices it.

Michael finds more of these odd moments in his day. He always makes an excited-yet-terrified mental note of it, which Patrick probably rolls his eyes at. If he had eyes. Does he have eyes?

A pain from the side of his head distracts him from that troubling track of thought, and he winces, rubbing at it. From her perch on the floor, Stephanie notices.

They had become much closer since the bullshit chicken-sausage-and-egg joke, and Michael couldn't figure out what Patrick saw in her.

She was funny, she knew just how to help after rough sessions, she still laughed at his jokes even though they were still super bad.

Stephanie was normal. A sweetheart, even, (though she does get real shouty on occasion). Patrick was not.He was sinister and capricious. 

As he ponders this, Steph breaks the No-Touching rule to gently flick his head, making him scowl at her,

"You were off in Dreamland. I'm trying to tell you, they're picking the movie for tonight and I need your help to out-vote Bambi." Steph remarks, leaning into the same armchair he was in.

Michael flushed. One-to-a-seat rule, remarks his brain, helpfully. "Why don't you like Bambi?"

"I just think it sucks, I don't feel like crying just because some doctor thinks I should." She said, stubbornly. 

" _That's_ why they play it?" Michael asks bewildered.

"Well.. yeah. To gauge how well you react to different things, what makes you uncomfortable, what makes you sad, what _should_ make you sad, but doesn't." Steph remarks, straightening up, and offering the then-shorter boy a hand. "Coming?"

Michael takes it without a second thought. "Yeah, I'm coming."

\---

It's been a year. Steph is getting discharged today, and apparently, someone's waiting for her. Michael tries not to think too hard about this, he should be happy for his friend, who gets to go home already. He just feels... surprisingly sad. 

At first, the orderlies don't tell her the name of the person, until one doctor, a man named James, puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, guiding her away to brief her.

Her old friend, Jessalyn was going to pick her up. Nobody held her in contempt, from a legal standpoint, at least, as the fire was set long before Steph would have gotten home. She was free. 

Stephanie had squealed as much to him, in the relative privacy of the reading nook. Squealed. She was fucking excited, that's for sure. With a pang, Michael tried to clear the negativity from himself, to enjoy hanging out with her for this last day. 

"You know I'll miss you, right, Michael?" She says gently after a minute or two, head against his shoulder. "You're a good guy."

He hums, "I'm gonna miss you so much, good lord." He laughs slightly, embarrassed, "I just.. I don't get many visits. And I'm not out for a bit."

Steph sighs. She presses her face into his bicep for a moment, before pulling away, "You know what? There's no reason I couldn't visit you."

"I'm on family visits only."

Steph worries her bottom lip, "I can call. I know that... Stormy and I both leaving so soon is not gonna be easy."

"No, it won't," He agrees, "But that's not your problem, Steph, you're getting out today! Don't worry about me. I'll be out soon too."

' **HAHA! No, we won't!'** comes an ever-helpful Patrick outburst. He is ignored. 

"I'll call anyway." She decides finally. "You deserve that much, man."

By the set of her mouth and the way she nods, Michael can tell he won't budge her on this. So he nods, a little choked up. "Mm.. Okay."

Suddenly, there's pressure and warmth around his middle. Steph is hugging him tightly, standing on her knees to do so. He smiles softly, and brings his arms around her, dropping his head against her, and inhaling. She smells like a hospital, which is no surprise, but under that it's green apple and something like old books. 

**'And you think I'm creepy.'** Patrick mutters.

She pulls away then. "Stay safe, Michael, okay? I need you in one piece to answer the phone." Michael's not sure why, but he gets a thrill of deja vu. "Shit. Um, here's my last name and email address. I know we aren't supposed to.. exchange things, but-"

"But you are hopelessly enchanted by my witty, fast-paced charm and rugged good looks." Michael finishes for her, cracking a fanged smile.

She huffs. "You know me so well."

She stands then. Dr. James is waiting for her by the door, and he gives a weirdly empathetic look to Michael, who shudders. Patrick doesn't like it either, recoiling. "Bye, Michael." 

He raises a hand, waving her off gently, "Bye, Stephanie."

The metal door swings shut behind her and the doctor, and Michael is left in the middle of the room, alone. 

And then there was one.

He pads off to the window a few minutes later, and through the beginning snow, he sees Steph, looking small and ridiculously bundled up in what seemed to be someone else's coat. A shaggy haired man kisses her friend, having been waiting by the car. He shakes Steph's hand, and he smiles to himself, feeling especially creepy for watching.   
  


Until Steph looks up, uncertainly. She finds him through the window and waves. It's small but unmistakable. He waves back with a grin. 

Michael really was going to miss her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you leave a comment i am legally required to hand kver my raisinets
> 
> i promise theres an actual plot! it picks up more after this chapter xmckcn


	4. ACT ONE; CLOSING SCENE

Somewhere far away from the ward, and removed from the plane of reality we know and love, a creature is hunting.

It lopes on all fours, but has more extremities that the ones that leave tracks in the ground.

Mandibles crowd in with a set of canine teeth, and six purple eyes survey it's territory, blanketed with snow and lit by warm, orange light. It follows a young man, who tugs a ripped flannel around himself, ducking into the porch of a large single-family home.

It's snout wrinkles in a remarkably human expression, something about the house bars it from interfering.

A man welcomes the boy in. The creature snorts and lopes off.

-

Shaun absentmindedly scrolled through BoredPanda, literally beyond himself with the monotony of having graduated high school and being unemployed. His parents had retired, and now lived with family, having divorced after his 16th birthday.

They say it wasn't because of Michael.

Shaun thinks he knows better.

He saw them when they came home from a "Michael Session." Haggard and worn thin, his mother's smile tinny and his father's unshakable silence speaking more than any hollow reassurances.

His brother did this. 

His brother would be home tomorrow.

Shaun continues scrolling, not wanting to focus on that just yet.

-

Michael holds a watch to his chest, watching the red numbers tick up ss more time passes, smiling to himself for some reason.

Every few minutes, the clocks would stop and start again. The gaps in monotonous silence were almost a relief, though they were interspersed by the radios of doctors, bustling about after hours.

" _You're getting good, kid._ " Pat remarks to him. " _Tomorrow's the big day. Let's get some rest?_ " 

His eyes grow heavy and he falls asleep, a smile on his face. After 16 years, he's finally coming out. 

Big day, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ACT ONE IS OVER >:)


End file.
